


A Merry Chase

by theoddling



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gender-neutral Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, references to TUA season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling
Summary: Klaus decides that he will no longer be ignored and takes action. The reader retaliates. Everybody wins.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Reader
Kudos: 43





	A Merry Chase

You lounged in the sun, you back resting against one of the many low brick walls that littered the grounds of the Texas mansion you and Klaus had come to call home (at the insistence of the very rich old woman who had been instantly charmed by Klaus and later taken you in at his request, a bit more like a stray puppy than you liked feeling), a book spread on your lap, its crisp new pages practically glowing in the light, and sunglasses brushed up to keep your hair out of your face.

“Y/N,” Klaus whined, practically throwing himself to the ground next to you. Speaking of puppies.

You tried to ignore him. When he just repeated himself, louder and more incessantly, you frowned, gesturing at him with the book.

“I am trying to read, Klaus,” you snapped.

“I _know._ It’s so boring. Why would waste such a nice day reading when we could be…swimming…or lying naked in the garden…or,” you cut him off with a raised hand.

“I like reading. It is a warm, peaceful, sunny day and I am enjoying the quiet of a good book. Or at least, I was.”

He pouted at you, eyes falling to catch the title of the thing that had so captured your attention away from him.

“ _The Lord of the Rings_? Oh come on! You practically know that one by heart. Why read it again?”

“Because it’s my favorite. I like rereading it. And besides…it’s different now. It’s…still new. I can’t explain.” You shrugged and tried to return to your reading, blocking out his huff of annoyance.

You quickly lost yourself back into the rich fantasy world, descriptions making the world around you melt away. All of your troubles, all of the strangeness of being tossed into the early 1960s, in Texas of all places, the ever-growing crowds of people flocking to Klaus’s exploitation of his powers, your own anxiousness about what people might do if they found out about yours, disappeared in favor of the fantasy epic you knew and loved well. You were just getting to one of the first epic actions sequences, the battle with the Ringwraiths on Weathertop, when the book was yanked from your grip. Startled, you jumped in your seat and looked up to see Klaus standing over you, your book held up high.

“Hah-hah!” he cried, sticking his tongue out at you. “Try reading now!”

“Give that back,” you growled, rising to your feet.

“No!” And then he took off, bounding over the compound grounds like a gazelle, white and teal jacket flapping in the wind behind him.

With a huff and a rueful laugh, you took off after him, the loose fabrics of your own outfit billowing in the breeze as you ran, feeling light and free, and annoyed.

“Klaus Hargreeves, you get back here right now and give me my book!”

The two of you ran across the grounds, Klaus’s longer legs keeping him just out of your grasp. The smell of the damp grass filled your nose and the sun beat down on your shoulders. Maybe it wasn’t spending the day reading, and maybe as the sun continued to climb you might find yourself regretting it, but right now, you were actually having fun and felt strangely at peace, like there was nothing expected of you, like if you wanted to you could just keep running forever and no one would ever make you stop.

“You can’t catch me Y/N!” Klaus cheered, laughter ringing and cutting through your thoughts.

“Oh you want to bet, gingerbread man?” you asked, a vicious, devious smile creeping across your face.

With a sudden burst of energy, you picked up your pace, just enough to bring you a hair closer, and then you jumped.

In your head, you pictured a graceful leap, flying through the air to grasp your book from him and keep running, shifting the order that he had to chase you now. Instead, what you got was more of a football tackle at its worst, the force of your launch slamming you solidly into Klaus’s back and sending you both rolling and skidding through the dirt, your sunglasses knocked off your head and lost somewhere on the lawn, your book tumbling away from both of you. When you finally came to a halt, Klaus was sprawled on his back, hair splayed behind him like a halo of light, and you were half on top of him, on leg thrown over his and your head laying on his bare chest.

“Well hello there,” he said, smirking at you as he tilted his head to meet your eye. “Quite the position we’ve landed in, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to let yourself get too distracted by the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips or the feel of him breathing heavily beneath you.

“What will you do with me?” he rasped, voice low and husky. “Now that you’ve caught me, I mean?”

You pressed your lips together, making a show of being deep in thought. “A thief ought to be punished…”

“Mhm,” he hummed in agreement, a sparkle in his eye and an exaggerated pout on his lips. “And I have been a naughty, naughty thief.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and laugh at his expression. You propped yourself up onto your hands, shifting you ever so slightly away from him as you now leaned definitively down over him, poised and perfectly still, dragging out the tension, waiting. And then he lurched upward and his lips were on yours, one hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer.

But oh no, you were not about to let him seize control. You let your arms buckle, lowering yourself until you were laying fully on top of him once more, pressed close against the long, lean plane of him by gravity, straddling his waist. At the same time, you sank your teeth lightly into his lower lip, drawing out a high, needy whine as his mouth opened for you.

His free hand came up to clutch at your waist with a sort of desperation that promised bruises later. Your tongues danced and twined, roving over each other in the way one only could when they know every centimeter and every fiber of another’s being. The hand at your neck crept higher to wend its way into your hair, tugging just enough to draw a hiss through your nose, the stinging only fueling the fire within you. Ever so slowly, you ground your hips down against him. The sound he made shooting through you and made you shiver.

Pulling back, his lips found your ear, teasing the shell of it as he whispered, “I’d stop if I were you. Unless you want to put on a show right here on this lawn.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you countered, leaning away to make sure you were staring into his emerald eyes, searching them for an answer.

You felt his fingertips ghost over your ribcage where they had crept up under your shirt. There was a careful thoughtfulness to his actions and you waited.

“God baby,” he murmured. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulders to draw you back down. “I don’t want to stop if you don’t.”

You smirked. “Well then, where were we?”


End file.
